[Fanfic, 100% Orange Juice] Game Master

Series: QP Shooting
Length: 2463 words
Genre: idk, comedy probably
B/D: I wanted to do a story where they all played the dangeons and the doragons.

“QP, roll for diplomacy.”

A clatter of icosahedrons hit the table. There was enough table to hit. Despite her talents as a flying engine of death and sadness, QP had a laissez faire attitude to accuracy; usually she just fired wildly until whatever she was fighting strayed into her path, which would have been laughable if she didn’t output more bullets than a munitions factory. Thankfully, Syura had a dining table bigger than some train carriages, which meant QP hit more often than not

.

As Syura totted up the roll and mangled the result with her formulae, Aru folded her arms across her chest. Aru did not, particularly, like role playing games. She hated pretending to be somebody she wasn’t. She hated pretending that she didn’t know things when she did. In short, she hated being reminded that she lived a double life already, and was never quite sure which half was the act – the half that was a cosmic holiday entity, or the half that had friends.

Still, the alternative had been letting QP and Krila brave Syura’s attentions alone. Krila had a beautiful, childish innocence that Aru found naturally endearing. QP had a set of legs that Syura had expressed designs on. Both of them needed to be protected, and the newly-minted Aru the Barbarian was just the bunny to do it.

Aru had only picked Barbarian because Syura assured her it was a simple class. It was, to a certain extent. QP had to worry about being a social maestro and casting the odd, intricately detailed spell or two; Aru, on the other hand, only had to worry about her thews, which were huge and glistening and entirely imaginary. Imaginary Aru was armed with a battleaxe that would no doubt have snapped Real Aru’s spine in half if she tried to lift it; real Aru, on the other hand, had armed herself with half a brick in a sock, a weapon revered by wizards the world over. Even Syura’s curiously dense skull would yield to the almighty brick-sock.

Unfortunately, even that hadn’t fully divested the pint-size poultry protector of her odd insistences, because shortly after everybody had picked their class, she had brought out a rail of cosplay equipment. QP – having wisely picked the class showing the least skin – was duly outfitted with a crown, a coronet and a carriage dress that left her looking like she’d strolled straight out of a history book. Aru? Aru got a faux fur tube top and a matching loincloth, because sartorial elegance was apparently a cross-class skill for a barbarian.

Syura, wrapped in the mysterious black cloak of a true game master, gave QP a prod. “Now you gotta make a persuasive speech, or the roll doesn’t count.”

“Dark Ninja Krilalaria! I, Princess QP, command you to do the stuff that the plot says I want you to do!” QP shouted. QP wasn’t particularly paying attention to the minutely detailed backstory that Syura had supplied, but she did enjoy shouting.

“And if I refuse, zam?” Krila replied, in a beautifully rendered stock villain voice.

“Then I won’t give you my melon bread at lunch tomorrow!”

“U-ugh… Servant of light, have mercy! To cast a famine on my people… You, bunny-eared barbarian! Have you nothing to say about this injustice?”

Aru nudged QP’s thigh under the table. “It does seem like we’re a lot more ruthless than the bad guys are.”

“That’s what being good is, Aru. You give evil an inch, they’ll take a mile. It’s better to scare them away from trying by making a few examples. That way, there’s less fighting and less bloodshed,” QP said, flashing a pointed look at Syura, who had doubtlessly been given more inches than she deserved. “Besides, the alternative is for you to chop them in half. That doesn’t seem nice, either.”

Aru, although she would never admit it, could have gotten behind a brief spell of chopping people in half. Syura had gone into great detail about how the blade of her battleaxe was made of high grade, tempered steel, inlaid with with runic prayers to the various totems of Aru’s imaginary people. But she had yet to chop so much as an apple with it. QP, it turned out, was a dangerously efficient problem solver, using a combination of natural wiles, real life leverage and a blunt ignorance of the rules that Aru didn’t entirely believe was genuine.

Krila turned to Syura with teary eyes. When Syura asked her if she’d help out by roleplaying some of the villains, she’d jumped at the chance – not yet realising that the side opposite QP was not the wisest place to be. Syura sighed.

“Fine, fine. Dark Ninja Krilalariat submits and leads you to the treasure room. QP, you gain 100 exp. Aru, you gain 75 because you didn’t do anything and you were out of character.”

“Pardon me? How was I out of character?” Aru asked, glowering.

“You’re a barbarian,” Syura said, and shrugged her shoulders. “Barbarians are supposed to be all ‘rawrg’ and ‘BLOOOOOD!’ and stuff. You were super reasonable.”

“Now you’re just being classist! What’s wrong with a thoughtful barbarian? Look at my wisdom score! I could dual class as a philosopher with a score like that!”

“I still can’t believe how high your attribute rolls were,” Syura pouted. “If I didn’t know you so well, I would almost believe that you were cheating.”

“Yes, well,” Aru retorted, folding her arms across her chest, “If you knew me a bit better, you’d know that I always keep a lucky rabbit’s foot on my person. Two of them, in fact.”

The atmosphere in the room became icy. Thankfully, Krila had no sense of mood. “Master of Dungeons, may I return to being the cleric of the beast god?”

“Fine.”

Krila jumped out of her chair and crawled underneath the table, reappearing a good fifteen seconds later in the chair next to Aru. She took off her hachimaki and replaced it with a cardboard pope hat, and seemed vaguely out of breath.

Syura leafed through her notes behind the screen, stopping once every so often to tut loudly. “Alright, the ninja leads the bossy princess and the world’s laziest barbarian through the caves of slaughter that I wrote three entire encounters for and into the cave of Sacred Ninja Treasure. Among the mountains of scattered gold coins and glistening gems, three treasures stand out: the Orb of Balance, needed to revive the Chicken Goddess, a beautiful tiara glistening with rubies, and an axe with the head carved into the likeness of a roaring tiger.”

“I want to lore check the tiara,” QP said immediately, narrowing her eyes.

“You’re a princess, not a bard.”

QP, sensing Syura’s reluctance, immediately pounced. “Which means I have nothing better to do than sit around all day reading musty tomes of ancient lore. Oh, and I have plenty to pick from, because I have free access to the Royal Archives. Lore check, please.”

“Make it an assisted lore check. As a barbarian, enchanted weapons and equipment are very relevant to my interests, and I have the intelligence score and smithing proficiency to back it up. QP, would you like me to roll?” Aru interjected.

“Please do, my faithful bunnyguard.”

Aru let fly her die, and watched as it bounced its way to a formidable natural 20. Syura also watched, although she seemed markedly less pleased by the result. Just as Krila saw playing the villain as an exalted position of responsibility, Syura had assumed the mantle of a fair and just game master, and refused to let it go. According to her, cheating would breach the sanctity of the game – despite the kind words in the manual encouraging her to fudge the occasional roll or two.

“Ugh. You reach deep into the caverns of your collective skulls and realise that it matches the description of a legendary artefact, said to imbue the wearer with all the skill of a different class.”

“And?” QP prompted.

Syura’s eyes narrowed. “‘And’ what? You got your lore check.”

“How many times have we played games together, Syura? How many cups of pudding have fallen under our deadly spoons? I know you, and I know you’re hiding something,” QP said imperiously. She turned to Aru, and began to apply puppy dog eyes. QP had a natural aptitude for puppy dog eyes. “Aru, may I ask you to try on this tiara?”

Aru clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I don’t know, QP. It might be dangerous, in more ways than one. Besides, I’m a big, macho barbarian, right? It’d take a lot to convince me to profane my mighty thews by wearing a tiara, especially if that tiara might remove said thews.”

Aru’s concerns were genuine, but there was another factor in the equation. Across the table, Syura was looking at her with desperate eyes, begging her to – just this once – take her side. It played across her conscience; Syura, despite having the authority, hadn’t cheated them for the entire game, whereas she and QP had combined forces to bend or ignore the vast majority of the rules.

“Very well. I am not an unreasonable princess, my dear bodyguard; I have heard your concerns, and I will offer you a grand banquet at the royal mansion when this adventure is over. I will also,” QP said, untying one of her many ribbons, “offer you your princess’s favour, to carry into battle with pride.”

Krila shot her hand up. “I, the cleric of the beast god, offer up my body in defence of our princess! I shall try on the tiara, and receive –”

“Krila, you don’t have to. You’ve already earned yourself a box lunch with two cups of pudding.”

“But,” Krila said, her one uncovered eye glistening with tears, “The game master didn’t put any treasure appropriate to my station in the cave.”

Syura felt the combined eyes of Aru and QP drilling into her skull. Very deliberately, she rolled a dice behind her screen. “Oh, look! Somebody just made a spot check!”

“How very convenient,” Aru murmured.

“The tiara is in fact dangling from a… uh… ebonwood staff of dark power, the likes of which have never been seen before! What mysterious spells could be hidden within?”

“I make a lore che–”

Aru clapped her hand across QP’s mouth, and quietly shook her head. “My goodness! Dark Cleric Krilalariat, it seems that your energies have revealed this magical staff, which nobody else could see. Surely you are the destined wielder of this staff.”

Krila was innocent to the extreme, but Aru would have been very surprised if she didn’t realise that her friends were trying to make it up to her. Her face settled into what, as near as it could muster, was a satisfied smile. QP, Syura, and Aru all looked at each other, having been drawn into a united front of Krila appeasement, and the mood of the room seemed to tend towards reconciliation.

“Alright. I’m going to try on the tiara. Not because I think it’s cursed, or a trap, but to show my loyalty to our princess. Also, I could use a class change. These stats are wasted on a barbarian, and this faux fur stuff itches like crazy,” Aru said. “Oh… But come to think of it, I beseech thee, my princess: when the royal banquet is thrown, I have two valued guests I would like to bring with me.”

“I, Princess QP, accept these terms.”

Syura sighed. Aru had offered her a compromise, and she knew it. “I understand. The barbarian Aru takes the tiara and places it on her head. In a blinding flash of light, she becomes smaller, more beautiful. She wears a headdress, and a long black dress covered by an apron; responding to the Princess’s wishes, the tiara has transmogrified Aru the Barbarian into an elegant maid.”

QP shook her head sadly. “Sorry, Aru,” she whispered. “I had a feeling she was going to do this.”

“It’s fine. I’m wearing a tube top and a loincloth, so anything is an upgrade,” the bunny shrugged. “Krila, can you find the maid outfit for me? I need to read up on my new class. It better still be able to use battleaxes.”

Aru stood up, and walked over to Syura to collect her character sheet. Casting her eyes around, she gave the diminutive girl a comforting pat on the head. “Sorry, Syura. I got you in on the banquet, at least.”

“You did.”

“Are you mad?”

“Not really. It’s hard to win against QP.”

“Hmm… This is…?! My eye! The eye of Krilalaris is reacting!” Krila shouted. Krila was not as good at shouting as QP was, but was by no means bad. “The fingerprints of the creator are inscribed upon this garment!”

“Krila… Sorry. I’m tired. Can you speak actual words and sounds for once?” Syura asked, wearily.

Krila jumped atop the table, brandishing the maid cosplay at Syura. “I serve the dark gods, but that servitude takes many forms! Behold, the insignia of this sealed eye!” She turned out the label with a flourish.

“‘Sealed Eye Cosplay Fashions’… Wait, is that you?!” Syura asked, her mouth agape.

“Ohohohoho! Do not think dollmaking is the extent of my power, human! You have my thanks, for you are ignorant of the true dark power of this clothing. For you, it is simply a maid outfit… for me, it was three weeks of relief from the dark hunger that consumes my soul. I feasted on the bread of life, and became stronger than I have ever been before! Ohohohoho!”

Syura blinked. She blinked again. And then, finally, she smiled. “I… see. What a small world. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to demonstrate those powers again for me? There are a few things I want to add to my cosplay rack…”

As Syura and Krila began to hammer out the details of a new and flourishing business relationship, Aru turned to QP. “Well, I think the adventure is over for today. I never got to actually use my battleaxe.”

“Yeah. I think you’ll make a great maid, though. I’ll be looking forward to next session,” the dog girl said. “I’ll braid your hair and tie it with the ribbon you earned, and you can bring me cups of pudding. It’ll be great.”

“Next time, hm? Well, I suppose I could go for one more.”

“Of course! Your princess commands it!”

“That only works in the game, you know.”

“Aww…”

Aru hadn’t used her battleaxe. But she hadn’t used her half-brick in a sock, either. She considered that a good day’s adventuring. She hoped that the next time would go just as well.

A/N: Then sex happened, the end. (But for real, I got super sick of this at the end and just wanted to go and write something else.